<TheRedEye> Okay, all
you guys ready?
<Sardius> Just a minute.
* Sardius grasps the room's
lone Power Bar from the mini-fridge.
<Sardius> Anyone want
this?
* Spinner_8 quickly snatches
the ancient and probably diseased protein bar from Sardius.
<Sardius> ...okay, yeah,
I think we're ready.
So we head out the room's double doors, with Red locking them behind us. We head for the elevators, angrily and excitedly damning Jurassic Boy to a fiery Taiwanese hell, and recounting the epic Pyramid battle that unfolded between me and Billy.
We step into the elevator and head down. Red and Billy light up a couple of cigarettes, and Spinner begins to munch contentedly on his coveted Power Bar.
I lean back on a side wall and quietly enjoy the scene.
Unfortunately, our moment of peace is soon shattered, when the elevator makes an unanticipated stop at a floor halfway to our destination.
<TheRedEye>/<Player_2> Shit.
See, you're not supposed to smoke in the hotel, and especially not in the elevators. Red and Billy braced for the worst.
And they got just that.
A small group of three or four black people (yes, the distinction is non-racist and necessary, thanks) - mostly women - stepped on the elevator and immediately started yelling at poor Red and Billy over their smokes.
<Woman_1> EEWWW, CANCER
<Woman_2> YEAH, CANCER
STICKS
<Woman_1> (obtrusively)
*COUGH* *HACK* *WHEEZE*
<Woman_2> JESUS GUYS,
YOU WANNA KILL US
After taking their abuse for a few seconds, Red and Billy decide that they won't be able to put up with that kind of shit for the few more moments that it would take for us to get to the ground floor. So they coolly saunter through the still-open elevator doors (yes, the group's taunts were all delivered even before the doors closed), turn around, and look expectantly and me and Spinner. Spinner - still calmly chewing away at his Power Bar - follows suit and strolls out to stand by Red and Billy.
All the while, the screaming from the crowd continues. I guess that my brain couldn't quite process and respond to the bizarre situation I was placed in, so I just kind of stood there in the elevator amidst the angry mob for a few seconds more, not quite knowing what to do. It was only after Spinner got a somewhat frantic look on his face and started making a "get over here, idiot" gesture that I was finally able to find and combine the mental and physical capabilities needed to get the hell out of there.
I leaped out of the elevator doors at the very moment that they were closing. And as the doors shut - through the tiny open slit that remained - we heard the group's parting shot:
<Group> Y'ALL MUST BE SKINHEADS
...
(The elevator doors shut. Silence fills the hallway for a few seconds.)
<Player_2> Uh.
<TheRedEye> ...skinheads?
<TheRedEye> Did they
just seriously call us skinheads?
<Sardius> That's...kinda
what it sounded like...
<Sardius> But, like,
that would be an incredibly fucked up thing to say.
<Sardius> Because, like,
we have hair, and shit.
<TheRedEye> Yeah, I know.
Still...
Minutes later, in another elevator...
<TheRedEye> Oh, shit,
I got it.
<TheRedEye> It's a race
thing.
<TheRedEye> Because they
were all black, and we were all white...
<Sardius> Ohhhhhh...that
must be it, I guess.
<TheRedEye> See, I never
think about things that way, so it just didn't occur to me.
<Sardius> Yeah, me either.
<Sardius> That was still
fucked up, though.
So, still somewhat dazed after that fucking bizarre and apparently racially-charged incident, we finally get to the ground floor and head out the hotel's front doors.
...and there's Red's car, parked right in front. How convenient!
<TheRedEye> Haha, oh shit.
<TheRedEye> We forgot
to move the car!
That's right, when Billy and Red first arrived at the hotel, they intended to park in front of the main entrance temporarily, so they could load some stuff in. Hours later, it had never occurred to them once to move it. So for many, many hours the previous night, the first thing anyone would see upon arriving to the Plaza hotel would have been Red's car.
Awesome? Yes. Too bad the resident parking attendant didn't agree. Red quickly apologized, explaining that he really didn't intend to park in such an assholish way for so long, and it worked. Just don't do it again, the guy said. Fine.
We then pile into Red's car, with me and Spinner being relegated to the back seat. Hmph. Hey, what's that on the windshield?
<TheRedEye> Huh, a note.
<TheRedEye> "Just want
you to know that you've been parked here for AN HOUR AND A HALF"
<TheRedEye> Ha! We've
been in that room for at LEAST three hours.
Shows what they know! Suckers!
So yeah, we go on the quest to drive Billy back to his house. As we wind our way through the garish Las Vegas landscape, Red and Billy talk about various things, none of which I remember, because I'm a jerk.
Eventually, Red drops Billy off at his house. I'll admit, the scene is nothing less than totally frightening. The neighborhood is almost totally unlit, and me and Spinner spent several nervous moments in the back seat, wondering if we were going to be ambushed and kidnapped by nocturnal suburban bandits. Or maybe it was just me, I dunno.
It's here where I begin to notice the unique way Red stores his CDs in his car - they're all just haphazardly strewn about the backseat floorboard. Bare CDs, I mean - no jewel cases or anything. I can just envision Red just tossing them back there while he's driving and switching them out. My perception of the man is just steadily improving by the second, here.
Eventually, Red gets back to the car, and we're on our way again. Our next destination? Red's HOUSE! *GASP*
When we get there, I'm surprised to see that his house is amazingly normal-looking. Huh. I'm not quite sure what I expected it to look like, but I wasn't prepared for normal. Oh well. We're greeted at the door by his roommate, Chantel. Red quickly introduces us.
<TheRedEye> Hey, Chantel?
<TheRedEye> I found these
hobos on the street a few blocks back - thought I'd take them back here
for the hell of it.
See, now THAT's an introduction. Ahem.
So me and Spinner sit on Red's couch for awhile while he runs around the house, gathering various gaming-related provisions for the show. Hey, I see some Sachens in the growing pile of games developing here in the living room! Oboy!
While Spinner and I wait, we're attended by the most adorable, loving dog on the face of the planet. It's a huge, huggable beast named Wonka that craves attention, and Spinner and I indulge her fully.
ISN'T YOU THE MOST PWECIOUS THING EVER
Um.
There's also a cat named Reebok,
but I'm allergic to cats. I still give it a complimentary pat or two, though. I mean, no problem, I just won't touch my mouth or nose. Ever again.
Seriously, Chantel, your dog rules.
In fact, Wonka loved us so much that she wanted to follow us out to the car and to where we were going. It takes a fairly elaborate act of deception on Red's part to finally get the thing away from the door ("Hey man, check this shit out! Over here!"), but we're eventually on our way again.
I call shotgun!
Sorry, Spinner.
It's here where the topic of food is finally brought up. I hadn't really thought about it before this point, but I hadn't eaten since my noontime breakfast at Denny's the day before. So, yes, I'm hungry. Let's get some food going on here. For eating.
<TheRedEye> Okay, so,
I know you mentioned on your page that I promised you 99 cent breakfast
buffets...
<TheRedEye> But see,
what I meant was 99 cent breakfast plates.
<TheRedEye> It's still
enough to fill you up, though.
<Sardius> Yeah. We'll
see about that.
So off we go to some random bar in search of a cheap but filling breakfast. This is the kind of shit that I'd been dreaming about since before I had even left Texas. Red's promises of cheap breakfast platters was actually the one selling point that cemented my decision to go on this trip, actually. So finally, my dreams are about to come true.
So after driving for awhile, we find a bar, walk inside, and sit in a booth.
Ooh, nice place. I'm going to like this.
<TheRedEye> Man, I'm glad
we're here, because I need food bad.
<TheRedEye> I've hardly
eaten all day, and I only got like four hours of sleep last night.
<Sardius> Mm, me either.
I got plenty of sleep, though.
<Sardius> I'm telling
you, this had better be good.
<Sardius> I've been looking
forward to these mythical breakfasts you've been promising.
<TheRedEye> You won't
be disappointed.
A waitress comes up, and introduces herself. But before she even asks what we want to drink...
<Waitress> Okay, so you
all are 21, right?
<TheRedEye> Yep.
<Waitress> ...then let
me see your ID.
Fuck.
Well, no problem. Spinner, you're 21, right? And I know I am. What about you, Red?
<TheRedEye> Well, see, I...
Aw, no. No no no.
<Waitress> Sorry, but
I'm going to have to ask you to leave.
<Waitress> Cops come
in here all the time trying to bust us, and I'm a bitch, and I hate you,
so fuck off and die.
Okay, so she didn't say all that, but she might as well have.
<Sardius> Dammit, Red.
<TheRedEye> That's never
happened before.
<TheRedEye> Don't worry,
though. They'll pay.
<TheRedEye> ...I'll make
them pay...
<Sardius> I...don't like
the sound of that.
<Sardius> But yeah, so
where to now?
He said he didn't know. So without a plan, I take the passenger seat and we just start driving randomly around in a winding path toward the hotel.
Red gets on the highway and puts on some music.
<TheRedEye> All right, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to listen to pussy rock while you're in my car.
Fine.
He puts on some band or another with a chick vocalist...most likely Curve, according to Red. But anyway, we're driving down the highway, and while Red's speeds never quite reach Spinner levels of insanity, we still go pretty fast. What I like, though, is Red's tendency to drive along to the music. Like, he'll ease off the gas when a song hits a slow, quiet part, then when the guitars kick in or the tempo picks up, he floors it. Driving with him was an awesome, schizophrenic experience, for sure. I don't know if he did this because he was trying to keep himself awake, or if this was just something that he does just because he's TheRedEye, but I liked it. I could only sit back in silence for several minutes as we blazed down the highway with the windows rolled down and music blaring.
Uh, we're still hungry here, Red!
<TheRedEye> Oh, here we
go.
<TheRedEye> How's IHOP
sound?
<Sardius> Fine, just
fine.
<Sardius> Mmm, IHOP.
Upon mention of the acronym, I begin to prepare my taste buds for pancake house goodness. In the five minutes it takes for use to finally get to the restaurant's parking lot, I've worked myself up into an IHOP-craving fervor. Can't wait. IHOP is good. Must have IHOP.
So we pull into the parking lot, get out of the car, and head toward the front doors. Mmm, I'm really craving such
<TheRedEye> ...the fuck?
<TheRedEye> ...
<TheRedEye> They're...closed?
<Sardius> ...
<Sardius> ...NO
<Sardius> THIS IS BULLSHIT
<Sardius> BULL. SHIT.
Of course it was. IHOPs don't fucking close, ever. Or they shouldn't, anyway. And especially not in Las fucking Vegas. This particular restaurant apparently closed at midnight. Which, as I so astutely observed, was bullshit.
IHOPs are open 24 hours a day. All of them are. As far as I'm concerned, an IHOP doesn't deserve to be called an IHOP if it ever closes.
(Yes, adaml, I know that your IHOP closes, but that's okay. You have the excuse of not having an IHOP IN FUCKING LAS VEGAS THAT HAS NO RIGHT TO CLOSE FUCKING EVER.)
Of course I was pissed. I had worked up a craving for IHOP, and I was being brutally denied by a wholly unexpected closure. Fuck I was mad. In fact, my ensuing profanity caused us all to dub the place "That BULLSHIT IHOP." A name which it very much deserved, in my opinion.
God, that shit still burns me. Who'd have thought that an IHOP would close? Not me, that's for damn sure. Not many other people either, I'd expect.
<lugnut> (...) they
actually have IHOPs that close? WTF.
<Agent17> Yeah, there's
a bullshit IHOP in Hemet, CA where I live, too. It closes at like 10 or
something. I was thoroughly disgusted when I found out, too.
Yes.
So we pull out of the parking lot, get back on the highway, and resume blaring music and breaking speed limits. The combination of chaotic influences actually gets kind of soothing after awhile, and I sit back and enjoy it for quite awhile.
<TheRedEye> Um, shit?
* TheRedEye quickly takes
the next exit.
<TheRedEye> I dunno if
you've noticed, but we've been driving the wrong way for the last fifteen
minutes.
<Sardius> ...oh.
So yeah, here we are, in Las Vegas at two in the morning, and Red's gotten us lost. Sleep deprivation be damned, I blame that bullshit IHOP for this.
<TheRedEye> Well.
<TheRedEye> The way I
see it, we'd better find a place soon, or...
<TheRedEye> Huh, look,
a Denny's.
<TheRedEye> So yeah,
it's either Denny's or nothing, guys.
We didn't have much of a choice.
...
Yes, that's right. Me and Spinner were, therefore, forced to eat at Denny's twice in the same day. A fate worse than death, to be sure. Nobody should ever have to eat at Denny's twice in one day. If that fucking bullshit IHOP had only been open...
Argh. Well, let's make the best of this, I guess.
<Spinner_8> Okay, Red?
<Spinner_8> I told Sardius
this earlier, and I'll tell you now.
<Spinner_8> We MUST get
the spicy chicken strips as appetizers.
<TheRedEye> Totally not
going to argue with you, man.
<Sardius> ...I'll be
right back.
I'd remembered, thankfully, that my hands were still covered in animal hair, from that loving dog back at Red's place. Man, it wouldn't have been a pretty picture if I'd have ingested any dog dander, because I'm allergic like a motherfuck. But back to our story.
<Waiter> All right guys,
what'll you have?
<TheRedEye> COFFEE
We ordered our dinners - strangely enough, they didn't offer the same plate I had ordered back in Arizona...and yes, this was VERY disappointing, because I wanted to order the same thing for the maximum repetitive effect - and the waiter left us to hungrily talk amongst ourselves.
<TheRedEye> ...mmrgh...
* TheRedEye takes off his
glasses
<TheRedEye> You know.
<TheRedEye> Anyone can
tape up their glasses to make themselves look like a nerd.
<TheRedEye> But it takes
a special kind of nerd to tape together his glasses with a floppy disk
label.
Sure enough, it was plain to see that Red had wrapped a disk label around a broken part of his glasses. I happen to think that this is awesome, in a dorky sort of way.
Our conversation picked up after Red got his coffee.
* TheRedEye slowly sips his
black, unsweetened coffee. Lovingly.
<TheRedEye> Okay.
<TheRedEye> So. The Girl.
<TheRedEye> First of
all, she's a girl, so obviously she's insane.
<TheRedEye> Now with
that out of the way...
Red ended up being very insightful about my whole situation, and I greatly appreciated his advice. Too bad I never got the chance to put any of his suggestions into action, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway!
<Waiter> Okay...so here's
your buffalo wings.
<Spinner_8> Uh...no?
<Spinner_8> We ordered
the buffalo chicken strips.
<Waiter> ...oh.
<Waiter> Well, here,
you can have these on the house. I'll go get you some strips.
Fuck yeah, free buffalo wings. Can't beat that with a beatin' stick.
<TheRedEye> Hey, did you
ever know why they call them buffalo wings?
<TheRedEye> I never really
knew, until I met this girl from Buffalo, New York.
<TheRedEye> ...and it
all became clear.
* Sardius stares blankly
at TheRedEye
<TheRedEye> ...meaning,
that they're named after Buffalo, New York.
<Sardius> Oh, yeah, well...yeah.
<Sardius> I always thought
that the name was just bullshit, like, they're made from the nonexistent
wings of the buffalo.
<Sardius> So no, never
knew that. Thanks for sharing.
I'm glad I went on this trip already. I'm learning stuff! Useful stuff!
Anyway, we ravenously devour our late-night breakfasts, and I again experience the joy of combining grape jelly and pork products. Yum.
By the end of the meal, Spinner and I had gone over the best parts of our trip for Red's benefit. We had to spread the word about Picacho, see.
However, after eating, we were all very tired. Red speeds us back to the hotel to proper musical accompaniment, and we go to the room.
Ha! Our Pyramid-inspired furniture pile is still fully intact. Awesome.
Red wastes no time in informing us that he's taking the bed, "because it's my fucking room," and Spinner, probably still fuming over my consistent front seat rides, quickly calls the couch's fold-out bed. The only options I'm left with are the floor and an uncomfortable-looking loveseat in the bedroom.
My repeated requests to sleep with TheRedEye are, regretfully, denied.
I mean, I insisted that the king-sized bed was big enough for both of us, and I promised that I wasn't planning anything sexual, but I think we both knew better.
So, anyway, the lights are turned off, Spinner smugly remarks to me how nice his couch bed feels, and TheRedEye tucks himself in.
And I'm left here to sleep, uncovered, on a tiny couch.
...
But fuck man, I think to myself. Here I am in Las Vegas. Sleeping in the same room as TheRedEye and Spinner 8, two guys I've known and admired for years and have only just now met. And tomorrow, we'll go to a badass classic gaming convention, where we'll have shitloads of fun. And after that, we'll all get horribly drunk.
As I drifted off to sleep, I honestly and genuinely thought to myself - for perhaps the first time ever - that life is good.